


Cheer to Happy Endings

by ohHOLYmoves



Category: Critical Role
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 11:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20007748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohHOLYmoves/pseuds/ohHOLYmoves
Summary: Beau is kicked out of her home and needs a place to stay. Jester is happy to help and thinks nothing of letting Beau in. And, oh, they fall in love.For beaujester week. Modern AU roommates.





	Cheer to Happy Endings

“It’s just for the night.”   
She’s soft. Soft features swaddled in a soft blanket and soft eyes that pierce deeper than Beau’s thick skin can protect. Beau isn’t use to soft and it chafes but she swallows the rise of foreign feelings. Beside her, Caleb begins talking in his usual quiet way that comes out crisp and smooth despite the fact that it’s two in the morning and he’s still in a sleepwear. Beau’s only half listening. She knows the story already and hearing it again, explained on her behalf to a stranger, burns her pride. He’s familiar with her and therefore knows to not tell the whole truth but he has to tell Jester some truth. That her family didn’t want her anymore because she’s an unwanted misfit. A fuck up. She’s messed up for the last time—this time just by existing—and her father had finally had enough and thrown her into the streets. Beau only had one friend in Caleb and, in her need, had gone to him for shelter. Alas, Caleb was still a college student living in a dorm with a roommate of his own and couldn’t harbor her. He insisted he knew someone who could though, someone he trusted and who he considered a dear friend.   
“Beauregard, this is Jester.”   
Jester is tired—Beau can tell—but she smiles and it backlights the velvet of her eyes that shimmer with a rare glint. Her hair is tussled around her horns and there are bags under her eyes and Beau feels, distantly, terrible for waking her up. Even if Caleb technically is the one who called her.   
“Jester Lavorre. Nice to meet you.” She speaks for the first time and the way her accent curls past the fangs of her smile is…endearing. It tugs at the knot in Beau’s stomach. There is sunlight stuck between Jester’s teeth and it’s offsetting because who can smile like that in the middle of the night?   
“Jester,” Caleb continues, “I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t serious. She has no where to go.”   
Jester’s eyes widen and she’s nodding before Beau thinks she even truly understands, “No, yeah, totally.”  
Beau’s ears are burning with shame. She hates this. Her fingers tighten on the bag slung over her shoulder. The only thing she has to her name now. Fuck Dad anyway.   
“Can she stay with you?”   
Jester blinks and her lips part slightly in surprise and then she’s a whirlwind of activity. The blanket slips off her shoulders in her haste to rush Beau, gripping at her forearms with big eyes and an earnest, genuine excitement that Beau can’t help but feel a hint of in empathy.  
“Oh my gosh, like a sleepover!?”   
“Ah,” Beau smacks her lips together and her brow pinches, “I guess? I’ve never had one.” If sleepovers usually entail a homeless delinquent and whatever Jester is.   
Jester’s fingers squeeze and, Beau notes, she’s strong but evidently knows her own strength because she stops shy of hurting Beau and drags her touch down to loop around Beau’s wrists. The megawatt smile dims to a gentler, shy kind.   
“You’re so welcome here.”   
Caleb’s shoulders relax only barely. Beau knows he felt guilty for not having space for her. He spares a little nod—no smile, hardly ever a smile—as thanks.   
“It’s just for tonight,” He and Beau share a look that is their respective understanding of each other’s hang ups about needing help, “We’ll figure something out tomorrow.”   
Jester is already pulling Beau inside with partings words of safe travels and no worries and good nights.   
The interior of the loft is considerably nicer than Beau was expecting. It’s beautifully furnished with expensive pieces of bright colors and frilly edges. Modernized in the decorations and the rugs that protect the hardwood floor. Brick for the walls save the one made of glass, floor to ceiling. Beau can see a little panel of glass that forms a door with hinges leading to a patio with a maroon colored awning over it. It all looks expensive. Too expensive for Beau to feel comfortable around and she grew up moderately wealthy. Jester doesn’t appear to notice Beau’s wandering gaze as she moves through the living area—it’s all open floor save for what Beau assumes is the bathroom—towards the massive bed near the patio door. She’s kicking clothes as she goes and humming to herself.   
“Do you need jammies?”   
“Jammies..?” Beau hasn’t ever worn anything to bed that wasn’t the clothes she’d been wearing that day. She clutches at her bag strap when she realizes she’s wearing the only set of clothes she owns now.   
Jester continues on as if she hadn’t heard her, metal clanking against metal as she slides hangers over the rack near the bed. Her tail swishes behind her in a slow way that reminds Beau of cats when they are lazing around with their eyes closed. “You aren’t allergic are you?”   
Beau’s whole face scrunches up, “To…jammies?”   
“What? No! Dogs silly.” Jester makes a face like duh as if Beau is suppose to understand the jump between one thought to the next.   
“Ah, I dunno. I wasn’t allowed to have any.”   
Jester’s hands freeze over a silk set of pajamas with a JL monogrammed into the breast pocket and, for the first time since Beau’s met her, she frowns.   
“You’re parents sound like assholes.”   
Beau snorts out a laugh and hikes her bag up a little higher over her one shoulder, “You have no idea. And not just ‘cause they wouldn’t let me have a dog.”   
“No, yeah. I mean,” Jester fiddles with the collar, eyes carefully averted, “what kind of Dad does that? Just…throws their kid away.”   
Beau is feeling distinctly uncomfortable again.   
“Anyway,” Jester’s smile is back, brighter than ever, and she whirls on Beau with the chosen set of pajamas in hand, “You can totally stay as long as you need to Beau. It’s gonna be so fun having someone around! I’ve always wanted a roommate.”   
Beau shuffles in place, “Cool.” She has too. Well, really, she just kind of wanted someone to hang out with. She’s never really had friends, especially girl friends, and it’s been a secret pain for her. She doesn’t want Jester who seems like the easiest person to get along with and probably has hundreds of friends to know that though.   
“Cool,” Jester echos back and rocks from heel to toe, “Bathroom is back there. You can change and shower and stuff if you want. I’m gonna go ahead and go back to bed. I’ve got work in a couple hours—”  
Shit. Beau’s such an asshole.   
“—Don’t worry about waking me up when you get in bed. It’s fine.”   
Beau’s brain feels like one of those balls you put your fingers on and tendrils of electricity stick to it. All thought is glued to the one idea of them, possibly, sharing a bed. Her eyes cut to the firm leather couch that slopes up high in a curl at one end. It looks brand new, stiff, but usable. Her hand lifts without conscious thought to point at it as her mouth flops uselessly. Jester frowns cutely but seems to understand after a long moment and laughs a tinkling musical sound.   
“Mama got that for me. It’s cute and it matches the décor but it’s the most uncomfortable thing ever. I wouldn’t do that to you after the night you’ve had.”   
Beau appreciates it but she’s nervous. The last time she slept in the same bed with a girl was when her mom made her go to Tammy Winston’s 12th birthday and the other girls somehow knew she was different and made her feel unwelcome and uncomfortable enough to finally call her mom and ask to leave. Not counting, of course, the times she shared a bed with girls she had previously been naked with.   
“You sure?”   
“Yeah! Why not?” Jester’s lips curl over her teeth impishly, the devilish intent overtaking that glint in her eyes and turning it into a precious sort of mischievousness, “Are you afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”   
Beau feels like she’s been hit upside the head, “What!? No!”   
“I mean, I wouldn’t blame you. Look at me.” Jester’s brows lift suggestively as she runs a hand over the taper of her waist and the swell of her hip outlined beneath her sleep gown. And just like that, Beau’s neck and ears are burning up.   
“Oh my god.”   
Jester’s smile cracks with another burst of laughter but it’s softer, weighted down by the tiredness slipping closer to Jester’s surface. “It’s fine Beau,” Her accent curls around Beau’s name playfully and sweetly in a way no one has ever said her name before, “Usually my only cuddle buddy is Nugget.”   
Beau’s nose scrunches with distaste as she takes the pajamas from Jester, “Please don’t let this be you telling me your boyfriend’s name is Nugget.”   
Jester’s laughing, again, and Beau is already becoming fond of it. People don’t usually laugh at her jokes. People don’t usually tolerate her this well period. It’s such a refreshing change that it surprises her into realizing she wanted it. People to like her.   
“Nooo,” Jester says it like Beau is a whimsical thing, dragging the word out on a musical note, “He’s my puppy.”   
“Oh. Oh! Allergies.”   
Jester hums and slips under the covers and, in the dim light of the loft, she sees a large lump under them move closer towards the shape of Jester’s feet. Nugget.   
“Okay, well, I’m gonna change and then,” She swallows and eyes the expanse of the king bed, “come back. I guess.”   
“M’kay.” 

It lasts more than one night. 

Beau didn’t mean for it to happen but Jester is impossible to walk away from. She’s warm and has Beau’s particular brand of humor and they get along surprisingly well and she, within the first few minutes of knowing Beau, had acted as if they had been friends all their life. And sometimes it’s hard for Beau to think they weren’t. It’s strange considering Beau is rough and standoffish and generally unpleasant but, with Jester, it’s so easy. Jester seems to genuinely enjoy her company and, before Beau can wonder how, they have become friends. Best friends. Best friends who do best friend things like pillow fights and gossip and go to the beach and talk about crushes. It’s perhaps a bit juvenile for their age but Beau discovers after her third week there that, just like Beau, Jester has lead a sheltered life and missed out on most things normal teens do. In fact, Jester admits shyly, this is the first time she’s really been on her own. She’s a fully fledged adult fresh out of college with an adult job and everything but she’s far from home and alone. Except not alone. Not anymore. Now she has Beau. 

Beau gets increasingly use to being Jester’s roommate. They have to take time learning how to live around another person but it comes easy and, pretty soon, they have a pattern. They coexist around each other without stepping on the other’s toes and it’s so fucking nice. Beau has never had such a genuine bond with anyone and she cherishes it. Months pass and, still, it doesn’t become one night. It becomes Beau throwing her shit on the hook Jester put there for her when she gets off work and not relaxing until she sees Jester, paint splattered or still in her EMT uniform. They have shows now that they watch only together with Jester’s legs brushing her own and Jester’s back pressed against Beau’s front without room for God between them. They have inside jokes and secret smiles and chain texts and phone calls for the times Jester flies home once a month to visit her mom. Beau has a space inside the loft, little crevices she carved out to put herself in and Jester respects them. She even helps dig away old layers for Beau and they build new ones together. When Beau gets a different job they celebrate by changing the bedspread because, “Jess, I love you dude, but I’m not sleeping on fucking bumble gum pink shit one more night.” And Jester is thrilled. It’s an excuse to drag Beau through a department store, arm in arm, and peruse over a multitude of choices to dress their bed. They cook together and take an ever-growing Nugget for walks and spend as much time in—just them together—than they do out. 

And Beau doesn’t think anything of it until she is forced to. She’s not stupid—she never has been— but she has always had a talent for taking complicated feelings and shoving them way down deep. And deep is where she has been keeping this growing bloom Jester planted without meaning to. Away and in the dark is where she hides the fear of Jester finding out that Beau kind of is secretly in love with her. And not just because Jester is going to tease her about guessing correctly. Beau is content to just be Jester’s best friend as long as it keeps Beau in Jester’s everyday life. Alas, Lavorre women never let Beau off that easy. 

“Beau! Beau come here!” Jester’s voice carries past the flimsy curtain walls they’ve constructed around their bedroom to block out summer morning light. She sounds more excited than usual.   
Beau looks down at the grilled cheese still browning in the pan with a lopsided frown.   
“I’m busy Jess!”   
“Beau, Beau, Beau! Come here!” There is a short pause where Beau can hear some mumbles and then Jester’s sigh, “Please!” She drags out the E’s in the word on a musical note. It tickles up her spine like the feather light touch of a lover, pressing into her nerves that bunch her stomach up pleasantly.   
“Coming!” She flicks the burner off and, after a parting look of sorrow at the half done sandwich, she makes her way to their room. Parting the curtains reveals Jester cuddled into the monstrous mountain of pillows they own and her tablet balanced on her bare knees. The light of the screen glows against the smatter of freckles that highlight Jester’s nose and cheeks and it just about stops Beau’s heart.   
“Sup?”   
Jester beams and holds her arm out, bangles on her wrist clinking together, and flexes her fingers in a grabby motion. Her hair is swept over one shoulder, loose, and shimmering with some kind of glitter she’s dragged through it. She’s always so fucking pretty.   
“C’mere! Mama called early and I want you to say hi!”   
“Oh, sick. For real?” Her hand grabs for Jester’s like a sailor drawn to his siren, mindlessly in a haze, and lets Jester drag her into the bed. They come together, pressed right from hip to shoulder, and Beau’s head gets foggy from the sweet cloying smell of Jester’s perfume. Their fingers twine tightly and Jester hums happily, wiggling against the pillows. The silver jewelry on her tail flashes when it curls around Beau’s ankle.   
“Mama! This is Beau! Isn’t she cute?”   
Beau’s cheeks grow hot and Jester, when she notices, presses a soft kiss against the blush. An interested hum comes from the gorgeous woman on the screen, behind a crooked brow and impish smile. Oh, so that’s where Jester gets it. Jester had bragged about her mother from seemingly the first moment Beau met her, going on and on about her talent and beauty, but seeing it now was still overwhelming. Not even the pictures Jester had everywhere did justice to the actual sight of her. Jester certainly got her beauty from her mother too.   
Marion props her chin on her splayed fingers and ticks her blood red lips up into a smile that Beau feels is trying to tell her you aren’t slick, I see you.   
“Beauregard,” And oh, her voice is like velvet, “It’s nice to finally put a voice to the hundreds of photos my Jester has sent me.”   
Jester scoffs and drags their hands into her lap to pick at Beau’s thumb ring, “It’s—not hundreds, Mama!”  
Marion makes a sound against the back of teeth kind of like a tsk, “Our texts use to consist mostly of Nugget but now it’s Beau driving and Beau in her hat and Beau post workout—”  
“Okay!” Jester jerks upright like she’s been shocked and laughs but it’s rattled like she’s got a gun pointed at her. Her fingers slip out of Beau’s to twist into her hair, eyes carefully fixed on the screen. There is a distinct pout Jester is sporting that softens the minx right out of Marion’s smile.   
“It’s nice to meet you Miss Lavorre,” Beau interrupts the moment between mother and daughter, “Jester talks about you literally all the fucki—heck. Hecking time.” Dumb. Stupid Beau. Way to make an impression.   
Jester, ever delighted by all things chaos and shenanigans, lights up at the slipped curse. Marion, too, seems delighted and laughs lowly.   
“You can say fuck Beauregard. And please, call me Marion.”   
Beau’s eyes widen a fraction and she leans closer to Jester to say under her breath, “Your mom just said fuck, dude.”   
“Do you not remember what Mama does, Beau?”   
“Yeah but like only cool tv moms cuss.”   
Marion laughs that same bright-music laugh that Jester inherited, the kind that lights the color of her eyes and makes her seem extra beautiful. Jester joins her and it’s overwhelming.   
“Oh Jester, darling, I don’t think she’s going to survive this family.”   
That does something to Jester that makes her tuck her chin down and look through her lashes shyly, sneaking looks at Beau like Beau can’t see her. Her fingers curl around Beau’s wrist. “She’s fits in perfect, Mama.”   
Marion’s brows raise in surprise but her smile, if possible, grows more fond. Beau feels like she’s hearing one thing but something else is being spoken entirely. Marion hides her adoring smile behind her splayed fingers.   
“Oh my, I see. Darling,” And here Marion begins speaking another language Beau has heard snippets of when Jester stubs her toe or when she’s on the phone with Marion. Jester nods along then freezes, squeezing Beau’s wrist, and laughs that same rattled awkward laugh before saying one slow sentence that’s pushed between her nervous smile. Marion coos.   
Beau glances between them, “What’s up?”   
Marion’s eyes twinkle, “She is cute, Jester-Love.”   
Jester seems to shake with pride, nodding eagerly and lifting Beau’s trapped wrist to hug tightly against her chest. “You should see how she eats her cereal Mama.”   
Beau’s face flattens into a dead look of a woman who has lost a reoccurring battle she’ll never stop fighting. “Milk first, cereal second. You’re doing it wrong.”   
Jester smacks her lips and tilts her head to give her a look that says I’m not, you are, but it’s okay. Marion emits a pleased hum behind her fingers, eyes going impossibly soft as she watches Jester’s profile.   
“You two are a precious couple.”   
Beau’s insides freeze up, heart and lungs seizing and leaving her a wide eyed husk of the person prior.   
Couple.   
Beau has thought about it for so long now but never even allowed herself to dream. Jester was not into her. She was a naturally flirty girl who showed her affection through touch of all kinds. Beau isn’t the only one she drapes herself over and kisses here and there. Molly gets neck kisses sometimes after a big Jester squeeze and Jester kissed Yasha’s hand the other day when Yasha spun her around. Jester is touchy. Just because she sometimes catches the corner of Beau’s mouth with goodbye kisses and sometimes gives Beau these looks that could be construed as a smolder doesn’t mean Jester wants her. Jester—sure, Jester likes girls too. There is a proud bi flag hanging under the picture of Jester at her first Pride with Molly and Yasha. That doesn’t mean Beau is Jester’s type. Beau isn’t anyone’s type. Not for long term stuff. Not forever.   
No matter that Beau wants to be Jester’s longterm more than she’s ever wanted anything and how fucking scary that is.   
“No, ah, we aren’t—Jester and I have never done stuff,” Oh god that made it sound like Beau wanted to bone Marion’s daughter, “Not like sex! I wouldn’t never do that to your daughter—”  
Marion’s eyes go a little flinty but her smile stays, somehow, warm as ever, “Why not? Isn’t my daughter attractive?”   
Beau scoffs, “Is that a trick question?”  
Jester sucks in a breath and Beau can see those eyes turn on her, wide and vulnerable.   
“Yeah,” She says and it’s so soft, stripped of all of Jester’s usual pomp, “why not? I’m pretty sexy, Beau.”   
Beau feels like Marion has pinned her down with nothing but a word and left her at the mercy of Jester’s big sad eyes and the way she’s trying to joke to hide her hurt. She swallows against the lump in her throat.   
“Of course you are, Jess. I didn’t mean it like that.”   
Jester drops Beau’s arm and it makes Beau feel like there is miles between them. Her jaw firms just before Jester lifts it at her, eyes turning steel like her mother’s.   
“Well how did you mean it?”   
Beau is definitely trapped. Between Jester and Marion’s ever watchful gaze, chin in her palm and sly smile barely hidden behind curled fingers. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Beau shifts a little to face Jester, trying to pretend like she can’t feel Marion’s eyes boring into the side of her head.   
“Can we maybe,” Beau gestures towards the tablet, “not do this in front of your Mom?”   
Jester folds her arms stubbornly, pastel painted lips flattened into a thin line. So that’s a no.   
“Am I not good enough for you?”   
Beau rolls her eyes, “Don’t be stupid.”   
Jester shrieks and it startles Beau nearly as much as Jester smacking her knee does, “Dick!”   
“Dude! Not like that! Fuck okay, listen, we both know I’m not good at this kind of shit,” Beau grits her teeth and waves her hand around, “Sorry.”   
There’s a titter from the tablet.   
Jester sighs but her face doesn’t soften. Her face still says she’s angry but her hand seeks Beau out, smoothing over Beau’s knee to grip her thigh.   
“Try.”  
Beau stares down at the blunt nails of Jester, painted a shimmering rose gold, and the delicate jewelry contrasting so beautifully against her blue skin. How many times has Jester initiated some kind of contact but Beau has not once out of sheer fear that Jester would take it the wrong way? And, worst, how badly Beau burned to just do it. To grab those slim fingers and kiss each knuckle before tugging Jester against her mouth to finally find out what her lip gloss tasted like. Would it be sweet or sour?   
“Of course you’re good enough, Jess. You’re too good. Like, I don’t even stand...I’m not good enough for you.”   
The nails Beau has been admiring turn weapon, biting into the meat of her thigh, and Beau’s sound of surprise mingles with Jester’s hiss.   
“You know I hate when you talk about yourself like that!”   
“I know.”   
“It doesn’t help anything! It’s not true Beau,” Jester finally softens, her sweetness bleeding from every angle and curve as she tilts her head with her lip caught between her teeth, “It’s not.”   
“Okay but,” Beau flails her arms, “I’m not your type!”   
Jester blinks in surprise, “What?”   
“I’m not! Right? Like, I mean, you do it to everyone. You’re sweet to everyone. So like even if I did want to,” Beau gestures at Jester in her crop top and long flowing kimono, tattooed arms and bare thighs, skin everywhere, “it wouldn’t matter. Cause you wouldn’t wanna with me.”   
Jester recovers quickly and leans in with her usual impish smile and wiggles her eyebrows, her fingers moving towards the inside of Beau’s thigh, “Everyone is my type.”   
It gets a snort of laughter from Beau and a fond roll of her eyes cause, okay, true.   
“Yeah but like,” Beau’s chest rattles from a deep breath, “not like this.”   
“What? Is it like a kink thing? ‘Cause you’ve already told me you like it when-”  
“God!” She’s so acutely aware of Marion being present at that exact moment, “No! Not a kink thing. Like a…heart thing.”   
Jester sucks in a breath and her eyes sparkle with something. It makes Beau feel like there is air below her rather than bed.   
“Mama,” Jester doesn’t take her eyes off Beau for even a second, “We gotta go.”   
There’s a pleased hum, “Go easy on her, my Sapphire and call me when you’re decent. Beau,” Marion gives Beau a look of pure motherly love that shakes Beau’s bones, “be honest with your heart.”   
“Bye Mama,” Jester makes a kiss sound. Marion blows one back and the screen cuts out, leaving them alone like Beau had originally wanted but now it’s…terrifying. Jester is looking at her in way that’s completely new, all hope and adoration and fluttering lashes and lip biting.   
Beau shifts and clears her throat, “Your mom is…cool. Like, never met a mom that, yanno, actually cares.”   
“Beau.” It’s Jester serious voice, the voice that is stripped of childish glee and fake happiness, the scared adult Jester who doesn’t step out of hiding often.  
“Look, I dunno what to say.”   
Jester laughs a soft laugh that sounds like it is hiding behind her ribs and hiding from real joy, constricted by anxiety. She shrugs a little, tail lashing behind her. “The truth?”   
“What if you don’t like the truth? What if the truth makes you hate me and kick me out and I never see you again?”   
Jester scrunches her nose up cutely, “I don’t think that’s possible. Remember that one time Caleb didn’t take a shower for like a month but I still hugged him?”   
“Yeah that was gross.”   
“Super gross.”   
They share a smile that eases Beau’s nerves for a second because it reminds her of them.   
Beau sighs, “I’ve never had a girlfriend.”   
Jester blinks, “Okay.”   
“No, I mean. I’ve never done the serious thing. I tried once and it ended…bad. And I just…I don’t want that to happen to us.”   
Jester’s breathing gets shallow and she leans forward enough that Beau can almost feel it. “Beau, oh my gosh, do you want me to be your girlfriend?” Her eyes are borderline feral, sharp and focused solely on each of Beau’s movements like she might pounce if Beau moves.   
“I mean, kinda? I like you dude. Like,” ugh, this is the worst, “How you liked Fjord when you first met him. Like a lot.”   
Jester scoots even closer, their knees bumping and Beau can definitely feel Jester’s minty breath on her chin, “You mean it? You aren’t messing with me?”   
“Dude, why would I lie about that? That’s just fucked up.”   
Jester slides her hands up Beau’s thighs to her hips and squeezes as she looks down at Beau’s lips, “Okay Okay Okay. Good. ‘Cause I like you too. And I want to be your girlfriend too. I mean, I basically am already. Just without the good stuff. You know kissing and,” Jester wags her eyebrows and makes a few lewd sounds, “the good stuff.”   
“Holy shit.”   
“Wanna kiss?”   
“Just like that? That’s it?”   
Jester rolls her eyes but it bleeds with unrestrained affection and her thumbs smooth circles over the points of Beau’s hipbones, “Beau. You’re so silly. I’ve liked you since forever and I’ve been so obvious about it. I was starting to think it wasn’t because you’re dense but ‘cause you don’t like me. And my Mama likes you. You’re funny and so hot and charming and so sweet and my Mama likes you. Those are like all the things I want. I really wanna kiss you ,” Jester makes an up and down gesture with her eyes, staying on Beau’s defined stomach for longer than the rest, “like, everywhere.”   
“Well fuck, when you put it like that.” And Beau kisses her. It’s a little awkward because her fingers snag in Jester’s hair and it makes Jester purr out a laugh against her mouth, forcing them apart.   
“Sorry.” Beau chuckles breathlessly.   
“You’re cute.” Jester bumps her nose against Beau’s as she tilts her head to press a gentle, lingering kiss against her jaw, one hand cupping her cheek. “Um, Beau?”   
“Yeah?”   
“I’m sorry for what happened with your family a year ago but I’m glad it brought you to me.”   
Beau’s chest prickles with warmth and she can’t stop herself from pulling Jester between her legs so she can crush her against her chest, pressing a kiss against the shell of her ear, “Fuck, me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. I was a little late so I just meshed the first three days into one fic.


End file.
